The trouble with trouble is that it follows those that try to avoid it. The more one runs, the faster trouble chases; Santana was methodically trying to escape it and failing miserably. She started at a walk by simply trying to ignore the feelings that night with Brittany had stirred. That did less than no good. All the time spent being aloof and indifferent meant that her mind ran free with the blonde in her dreams, an outcome that had her waking feeling her lower regions throbbing and she would have to spend the rest of the day trying twice as hard not to acknowledge the princess' existence.

Next she broke into a trot by trying to alleviate the tension coiled within her herself. In the dead of night she would bury her face in her old ratty shirt and muffle her moans as she sought release, but night after night, all that self pleasure got her was more vivid and stimulating dreams.

After that was a dead run, but she would need help for that. It pained her, but the only person she was sure could help and wouldn't become attached to her was Puck, and that she was even willing to consider him was a testament to how desperate she was getting.

This particular solution she tried to hold off on but one bright afternoon Brittany had gone to the garden and laid out a blanket to take a nap. It would have been fine except she insisted Santana lay with her. The brunette had done as she was asked on the far side of the blanket, but Brittany had laughed at the attempt and pulled Santana back flush with her front. The feel of breasts on her back and warm breath tickling the nape of her neck for an entire afternoon was enough to send her on a hunt for the handsome man as soon as she had passed Brittany off to Tina for her bath.

It took a while to locate him, since when he should have been at the armory he was actually by the kitchens talking flirtatiously with one of the servant girls.

Santana interrupted them brashly by simply inserting herself in front of the young girl and giving her a withering glare. The girl blanched and scampered away looking like she might cry, Santana hadn't meant to give her that harsh a look, but her pent up frustrations must have carried it to new heights.

"What in the seven hells!" Puck snapped indignantly as he watched the pretty, young girl scamper away.

Santana leaned in close, "I don't have a lot of time and I know you don't either, so let's be quick about this," she said pushing him towards an off hallway where there was nothing but doors to rarely used storage closets. It used to be her shortcut from the soldiers' barracks to the dining hall when she was in a rush to get back to work upon leaving Karofsky's care, it was a little heartening to realize she hadn't been through this particular hall in ages.

She pushed Puck into a room that held nothing but disused potato sacks and pressed him against the wall as she slammed the door shut with her foot. The room fell into complete darkness giving her the courage to pull him close in a harsh kiss.

He went with it for a moment before he pulled away breathing hard, "Hold on! Are ya asking for what I think you are?"

As an answer she pulled loose the leather that held his pants up and wrapped her hands around his already hardening manhood.

"Oh! Alright then," he said barely able not to squeak his response.

His hands explored her as he kissed her back and with expert force he flipped them putting Santana against the wall. It took him no time to remove his pants and to work off Santana's, something she assumed he'd had a lot of practice with by now. He hoisted her legs up on his waist and pushed into her with a grunt. Santana hissed at the intrusion and placed a stilling hand on his chest so she could have a moment to adjust. There in the dark with Puck buried deep within her, she was finally free of her troubling thoughts and feelings; it was a relief and her body was having no trouble responding as it should. It gave her hope for herself and for her future at the castle. She gave a gentle nip to his neck and rolled her hips to signal for him to continue and he did - with gusto.

Puck had not exaggerated his skills in the least, he knew what he was doing and exactly where to touch, he made her feel hot and her stomach clenched in a pleasant way. It made her feel normal, like how she felt during her time with Sam. She threw herself into the act tossing her head back and moving to meet his thrusts and attaching her mouth to his exposed neck. She focused on him, on his feel and taste and the sound of their sudden and rough coupling and lost herself in it letting the pleasure take her over. He made her burn, he made that feeling that had been squirming in her belly expand through her whole body until she couldn't keep it inside. She was an expert at keeping quiet, but she couldn't contain the gasps that came out of her mouth as she shook with pleasure.

He grabbed her hips and pushed her down so he buried himself deep into her and the sudden roughness of the action made her body go rigid and her eyes snap open. Feeling her reaction Puck pumped into her a few quick times before he pulled out of her and released his seed onto the floor. He held her for a moment panting as they both leaned against each other for support letting their muscles become dependable enough to use again.

It was everything she remembered it would be and it was certainly better than touching herself. She disentangled herself from Puck's arms and stood on her own two shaky feet straightening her thoroughly disheveled clothes.

Puck opened the door for her, waited politely for her to walk past and proceeded to leer at her as she did, "Dunno what that was about but if ya wanna do it again please find me."

Santana wanted to roll her eyes, after all that had just happened he was still looking at her like he wanted to put his hands everywhere.

"I doubt I will need you again but thank you for that," she said suddenly shy about her actions, but she certainly didn't regret them.

She walked away and went to the riverside to relax for the time remaining before she had to see Brittany again, she sat watching various servants come and go, some washing their own clothes and some washing the elaborate and extravagant garments of their masters. There, by the water, in the approaching night she was able to settle herself, her impromptu romp with Puck made her feel grounded; safe. With the still present tingles of pleasure that rippled through her she felt reassured, confident she could easily push the events of the previous week away. She had just been too long without physical contact and now that was resolved.

After that calming rest she made her way up the complicated stairwells and halls back and was able to easily escort the princess back to her room. The taller woman was clearly ready to be done for the day as she looked quite weary and once she hit the bed she was completely asleep.

Santana went to bed feeling elated as seeing the other woman had done nothing to her and she almost fell asleep with the same feeling of joy until she noticed that Tina hadn't yet followed her back into their room. Which did not bode well.

The next morning she woke well-rested and mentally refreshed, she'd had no dreams of piercing blue eyes and long blonde hair and it was wonderful. She was up, dressed and standing in her designated position as the prince and princess came down the overly extravagant hall from their bed chambers.

Her confidence was at its highest when she saw the blonde approach behind her husband rubbing her eyes sleepily and continued to feel nothing. None of the weird wriggling that had plagued her every time her eyes landed on the princess'. They walked by and Santana was fully prepared to fall into step with her as they made their way to the dining hall when Brittany noticed her for the first time and turned the full force of her smile and ocean deep eyes on the smaller woman.

The reaction was instantaneous and fierce, her heart skipped a beat and suddenly she felt lightheaded and weighted down at the same time. Her mouth went dry and it was impossible to swallow the lump of fear that had clogged in her throat.

"Good morning," Brittany mouthed, knowing it upset Archibald when she greeted their servants in the morning.

Santana just stared open mouthed at her trying to get a hold on something, anything within her, she wanted to be in control of her own body again, but nothing was working right. Just that simple gesture had sent her heart into beating overtime and suddenly she wanted to go running to the armory, find Puck and make his every dream come true.

It wasn't until she felt the heat of Karofsky's glare that she realized the princess had passed by and she scrambled to keep up. Brittany saw her arrive and fell back a few steps to walk next to her, it wasn't an unusual move on her part, but this time was different for Santana, the blonde may as well have been a lit furnace since her closeness made her feel like her very clothes might catch fire.

Brittany seemed to sense her discomfort and reached out a hand to touch Santana comfortingly, but she flinched away from it like had been burned. The princess could only look confused and worried at the reaction, feelings that were only magnified when her servant spent the whole morning avoiding her gaze.

The moment she was free she did exactly what she had planned and sought out Puck again, he was in the armory and was, in fact, quite busy, but when he saw the look on her face he set his work aside and made himself available. She kissed him hard and rode him harder, she dug her nails in his back and moaned in pleasure at his every touch. She did everything she knew to do to enjoy herself and even though Puck was in danger of angering the master blacksmith he indulged her request to go a second time.

By late afternoon she was in the gardens waiting for Brittany to be brought to her as she always did and she spent the entire time trying to settle herself. Clearly something was wrong with her if she was reacting this way to a woman, especially when she was capable of sex with a man. Whatever it was she needed it to stop and she knew she could will it to if she wanted, the desire was so blindsiding it had to have a trigger. A season ago she had wanted to throw the princess down every step in the castle and now… now she just wanted to throw her against a wall and kiss her breathless.

Growling at her thoughts, she started pacing to help her get a handhold on what was happening, but nothing helped. What had changed? Sure, she was feeling less animosity, and Brittany's plight with the prince made her seem less like her captor and more like a fellow captive but how had that turned into the current situation? Admittedly, she had always, albeit sometimes grudgingly, found the princess attractive, and she was always very kind and her body was incredibly soft…

The memory of them pressed together dancing came into her mind and made her cheeks flame and her insides squirm.

Damn that dance and Puck for having it! she thought acidly.

The whole situation was frustrating, not only did she feel a burning desire between her legs for someone she could never have, it wasn't even possible for a woman to pleasure another woman in that way.

Behind her she heard a light floaty laugh that meant Brittany was coming and the things the sound did to her let her know she was going to have to think of something besides Puck to keep her in check. Sighing as she saw the princess round the corner she decided to do the smart thing and keep it all inside, even if it felt like she might implode trying.

Brittany came to the garden in her usual high spirits, but when she saw Santana her smile fell a little and suddenly she looked shy. Santana could see she clearly wanted to ask her about something, probably, giving how trying her day had been, the way she had acted that morning. However, the darker woman was in no state to go into what was bothering her, so she just looked away irritably. Seeming to understand there was no hope of dialogue, the princess instead moved on to sit by the pond looking out over the water and hummed to herself.

It only took a couple of notes for her to recognize it as the song she had sung to comfort Brittany, and she unwillingly felt an all-encompassing tranquility that the woman had remembered it so well. There was a comfortable silence with only her voice filling the air before it suddenly stopped and the blonde spun around to face her.

"Do you not want to be my lady in waiting anymore?"

Santana was definitely taken aback by this, "Sorry? …M'lady," she added belatedly, her surprise making her forget her courtesies.

"I thought we were becoming good friends, but you seem to hate working for me now more than ever. I don't want you to go, but I don't want you to stay if it makes you that unhappy to be near me." Her face was venerable and open, causing Santana to want to run away before she did something incredibly stupid… like considering not taking the offer.

Her desire for distance was being granted, she could get away and not have to bother with Brittany or Puck, but simultaneously she was drawn to the woman, she wanted to stay by her side always. No. Stay by her side and more, and it was the more that was going to get her beheaded. To refuse would be difficult, like a drunkard turning down a magical offer to rid the world of alcohol. It would rid her of the temptation, but she suddenly realized how much she liked it, how much she would miss the way her heart danced when that smile was turned on her. To stay was to condemn herself to a sweet hell and her life was already too much to handle. She needed this to stop. Now.

Fortifying herself to cut the tether she opened her mouth and said, "No, I am content to remain in your service m'lady."

As Brittany's face exploded into a luminous grin Santana stood blinking dumbly; what in the hell had she just said?

Quickly, she reviewed all the thoughts she'd had and then the words that had come out of her mouth. They didn't match at all. Despite that she felt like she was almost trembling with relief at not being forced away from her favorite obsession.

"I'm so glad!" the princess shrieked jumping up and enveloping her in that familiar hug that made her brain unable to understand her words or their meaning, "That means you'll be able to sleep by my room now! We can talk all the time!"

That statement both scared and confused her.

"What?"

Brittany put her down smiling widely, "The king and queen leave tomorrow, that means Artie and I will take their place and change rooms. The queen's personal lady in waiting sleeps in the room next to her bed chamber."

"Yes, but prince Archibald will be there for you to talk to," she said irritably backing away a few steps so her head would stop feeling like she had downed a barrel of mead.

She noticed Santana's withdrawal and it made her calm her exuberance to a mild happiness, "Usually, however Artie plans to move me into a different bed chamber away from his, though he made sure that it has a place for you next to it."

That was bad for more reasons than Santana could even comprehend at the moment, "The king approves of that?" she asked knowing she shouldn't.

Brittany shook her head, "He doesn't know."

"Oh."

"But you won't have to worry about Karofsky because he won't be in charge of you anymore… well, unless you do something really bad…" she said quietly.

Right away she thought of ten 'really bad' things she wanted to do, "Alright."

"You aren't happy," it was a statement not a question.

"M'lady I am pleased to serve you," she answered dutifully, because being overly familiar with the soon-to-be queen was going to lead to serious trouble, especially now when it was clear that there were going to be more chances for it.

The princess seemed less than thrilled with her answer, "I was hoping for you to be pleased to spend more time with me," she pouted.

Santana's hand twitched with the effort not to reach out and touch her, to wipe the pout off her face and show her how much she wanted to spend time with her.

And at that, something inside her told her that whatever happened, it would not end well.

The next day was a blur of movement, there was a farewell ceremony at the castle and then the official crowning of the new king and queen of the land while the old rulers gained the title of king sovereign and queen sovereign. Not that Santana had any idea what those titles were supposed to mean. Afterwards she was forced on a large overly adorned horse to ride beside the royal procession as they made the journey from the castle to the docks to see off the old rulers to their new conquests.

The docks were located at the bottom of a narrow trail that dipped dangerously low before opening into a small cove that opened to the ocean. There was no other way down to the water save for the sheer, violent, perfectly vertical drop from the cliffs that surrounded the castle making the port the only entry point by sea and as such it was heavily guarded. The horses followed the royal procession single file onto the wooden docks, the sound of hooves echoing loudly in the closed space. Santana tried not to feel daunted but when the sight of over fifty ships, each ten times the size of the largest house she had ever seen, came into view she gave up trying to still that feeling.

There were words spoken in foreign tongues, there were colorful birds released into the sky, and there was even a brief speech given by Archibald that apparently moved his mother to tears from what Santana could see of her. The entire proceedings started when the sun was in the midday position and they did not end until it began to sink into the ocean painting the cool waters fiery reds, oranges, and pinks, only then did king and queen sovereign dismount and board their ship. They all waited even longer for the ships to set sail and when they finally did Santana watched as they floated off into a sea that now looked blood red.

Once they were out of sight Archibald ordered everyone return to the castle and quietly the procession reversed and did so.

Santana rode a good distance behind Brittany since the woman seemed upset and she didn't want to tempt herself to stick her nose in it. Matthew seemed to notice her excessive distance and slowed his mount to match its strides with hers.

"You seem troubled," he said quietly, keeping the conversation between them.

"We all have troubles," she said vaguely.

His face darkened as he looked ahead at his king, "Indeed."

Santana looked over her shoulder at the ships that were now mere specks in the sunset, "Is it normal for a king to bring his wife with him on a conquest?"

He glanced at her with a small smile, "No. Not at all. But our king sovereign is unusual in that he very much prefers the company of his wife and this campaign will be a long one. I doubt he could stand to be away from her for some lengthy, unknown period of time. He displays extreme confidence in his own abilities in taking her with him…" There was a pause where he seemed hesitant to say something then he went on far more quietly than he began and Santana had to strain to hear him, "He also shows a lack of confidence in his son's ability to protect her."

Curiosity overtook her, "How?"

"Well I would say it is all romanticism, that he took his queen sovereign with him solely because he couldn't bear to be apart from her, but the truth of it is that he took his wife on a highly dangerous campaign and left his personal guard to watch over his son." Her eyes snapped to Azimio who, she had just noticed, was still with them several paces ahead, ridding close to the king. "Those actions speak of a man who fears the outcome of what his occasionally irrational son may do if left to his own devices without an heir to stake claim to the castle, should he parish. I also think this Sovereign title has something to do with it. Officially his mother would outrank him and who can respect a king whose mother has the final say in his actions? Naming him regent would have a similar effect in his parents' absence as the title does not carry the same weight, and in these troubled times he needs all he can get."

"What is a king sovereign? I've never heard of it."

He smiled wryly, "Of course you haven't, it's made up. Actually it is quite brilliant. He gave his son his old title, one that the people of this land know and respect then created a new, grander one for himself and set sail to make the inhabitants of a far away land know and respect it. His son has power, esteem and the obligation to relinquish the throne should his father return, successful or not."

Santana could see the sense in it explained that way, "So it is up to our king to keep the kingdom safe until the king sovereign returns."

Mathew shrugged his shoulders slowly, "If the king sovereign is able to conquer the lands like he believes he can, he will stay there indefinitely."

Her eyes flicked to the back of the king and over to the queen slumped slightly in the saddle a few lengths behind him. Looking at them, she could see this would bode well for no one.

Changes in the Abrams Kingdom began almost immediately, starting with Archibald moving his bed chambers down the hall, in fact so far down the hall it was in another wing, and stretching to Azimio and Karofsky having their positions switched. Azimio was made understeward and also given the title of royal executioner so as not to insult him. Executions were usually done by the captain of the guard and as such the axeman had no official title, but Archibald wanted to create such a title so that his allies and possible enemies would know that the option of death for their betrayal was always open. This was something that Matthew did not approve of and Santana thought it a bad sign that the king was dismissing the council of his wisest advisor so soon after his father's departure.

Karofsky was promoted to Azimio's old post and was even knighted for good measure, the public reasoning being that he had known Karofsky longer and better than Azimio but Matthew had discreetly informed her at the knighting that Azimio, with his large frame and stoic face, frightened Archibald. Santana found that information highly amusing as she had always suspected him of being foolishly afraid of nothing.

Tina was moved to the room next to the king's as Santana had been for the queen, a fact that had Michael sulking hotly for over a week, no one could blame him and no one had the words to console him. It seemed like everything changed overnight, even the color of the servants' shirts changed from white to red.

With all the change Santana hoped her inner turmoil might as well, and it did, but in the sense that it got worse.

In the mornings she was no longer expected to be out in the hall and waiting, nor was she allowed to pass Brittany off to others, the queen was her responsibility throughout the day. The queen sovereign had left a few of her servants behind to help with tasks like washing clothes, cleaning her room and all manner of chores that would pull Santana away. This meant being confronted with the sight of the sleeping blonde first thing in the morning; waking her to watch her rub her eyes and yawn cutely before assisting her in getting dressed and brushing her hair. The morning ritual alone was enough to have Santana worn out for the rest of the day but she was now also in charge of bathing her and helping her undress for the night. It was pure torture.

She had to eat her meals before the queen rose in the morning and after she went to sleep at night, usually afterwards she would have to use the remaining time to clean her own clothes, but it turned out a lady in waiting to the queen had slaves to do that sort of thing for them. It left large gaps of time for her to be alone and awake in her room at night. However, after having to take over bathing duties, her only reprieve during the day was a long stretch at noon when the king and queen would sit in the council room to discuss everything, from civil disputes to hearing the individual complaints of the nobles who lived by the outer wall. At those times they were attended by the apprentices of the monks that presided over the council chambers and kept evil in all its forms at bay, something that was clearly not working in Santana's opinion since Archibald always seemed to get in fine.

Her long breaks were the source of another change; she went from random sporadic visits to Puck to seeing him daily, almost like clockwork. She found she had to or the stress of being so incredibly close to the queen made her too distracted to do anything right. However, she knew it was a flimsy bandage on a pouring wound, the reoccurring dreams she would have of waking Brittany with a kiss, one that was greedily returned, left her far more stimulated than any tryst with Puck. Being with him fixed nothing but it helped, until one day, a moon's cycle after the king and queen sovereign departed her carefully built restraint failed her rather spectacularly.

The morning was the same as all the others, Santana woke and went to the kitchens to eat her morning meal before going to Brittany's room and waking her, a task that was never easy. The queen woke, her blue eyes confused and shining. A few blinks and eye rubs later she was up and moving to the desk at the far side of the room that held all of the necessary items to prepare her hair and face for the day.

There was a knock at the door and Santana moved to let in the small force that came in every morning to style Brittany's hair and apply powders to her face for beauty though the smaller woman felt it was hardly necessary. Beiste came in as well checking the many wounds she had and asking her general questions about her health as the other women bustled about her.

The many bruises that covered the queen, in her separation from Archibald at night, had finally been allowed to heal and it made her already eye-catching figure captivating. The truth of it evident when the others exited and Santana was left to help her mistress remove her clothes without drooling all over herself. Of course, as was her nature, Brittany was oblivious to all of this, she would talk about the things she wanted to do that day and how eager she was to go to the gardens. Santana just listened with passive interest, her mind was occupied mainly by the uninhibited view of Brittany's backside and she was leering so hard she was quite sure anyone who was even slightly more aware would have felt it after the first few moments. The intensity of her stare was not noticed, but it did leave her unprepared and totally vulnerable when Brittany turned unashamedly around to excitedly talk about the ducks that would be passing through the garden on their migration south. She had seen the queen in such a state of undress before, but such a bold uninterrupted view when her mind was already in such turmoil made this time completely different.

A stretch of time passed where Santana just stared at her, holding the dress she was supposed to be helping the blonde into limply at her side. Her body blazed with heat, her heart leapt into her throat and her head began to swim, but only because she had yet to realize she had stopped breathing.

The dress dropped from her hands and even as her mind started to scream at her to stop staring she continued to rake her eyes up and down the form in front of her. Brittany noticed the change and stopped smiling, suddenly worried.

"Santana are you alright?" she asked moving forward and touching her arm.

The contact sent sparks all over the smaller woman's body and she jerked back with a gasp, her need to breathe finally being addressed, "Don't touch me!" she barked, desperate not to feel the sensation any more intensely than she already had.

Brittany's face fell into a mask of hurt and surprise, "I'm sorry," she said quietly.

Santana scrambled to cover herself, "No, your majesty, I am. I shouldn't have said that nor should I have yelled. Here," she said quickly retrieving the dress and helping her into it.

Brittany did as she was bid, but her smile never did resume its normal cheerfulness. Santana felt bad about that, but she didn't have time to think about it, all she could do was focus on getting to Puck.

She found him waiting in the storage room they had first met in, it was where they always met and he had taken to arriving early and was usually already hard for her. This was one of those times and she was thankful as she climbed on top of him and buried his member deep inside of her hoping to get her mind off of what had happened that morning. But she couldn't. What was worse, as she rode Puck, panting and gasping in the dark, she could see Brittany; her body, her breasts and the fine golden hair between her legs, and it was those thoughts that made her groan louder than at the rough way Puck was kneading her breast. The thoughts wouldn't leave no matter how hard she tried and in a moment of weakness she stopped trying and imagined what it would be like to touch her, to see Brittany's face contorted in pleasure, naked beneath her. That was when it happened, that unusual intense coiling feeling that she had been unable to truly satisfy, that tension that Puck couldn't expel from her no matter how hard he slammed into her, that feeling grew and grew until she could feel it ripping through her innards and in between her legs and the magnitude of it scared her.

Desperate to escape it she tried to pull away from Puck, but his hands were now on her hips keeping her in place.

"Stop!" she cried, terror lacing her voice, "Puck! Stop! Let me go!"

She felt his rhythm hitch and though in the darkness she couldn't quite make out his face, she could hear his confusion, "What? You serious?"

"Yes!" she snapped and the moment his hands left her she scrambled off his lap breathing harshly.

He shuffled into a sitting position, his breathing almost as irregular as hers, "What am I supposedta do about this?"

It was too dark to see, but she assumed he was gesturing to his member, "I'm sure you can fix that," she panted as she collected her clothing off the floor and pulled it on quickly.

The last she heard of him was his growl of frustration as she slammed the door behind her.

That encounter left her on edge for the rest of the day, and she even feigned illness at the queen's bath time so she could go hide until later. Nightfall found her brushing out Brittany's long blonde hair and trying not to notice how the smell that wafted from her made her unsatisfied body tingle hotly. Brittany seemed subdued, but Santana knew she was mistaking her mood for anger not lust and she was content to keep it that way.

Later when she had finally finished eating she took a bath in the river to get clean and cool herself down, something she had done determined to keep her every touch innocent. Once dry and in her night clothes she lay wide awake in her room, not moving a muscle. Though the new one was far more spacious, offered complete privacy and a much more comfortable bed she found herself missing the presence of others in the room with her.

The privacy and the quiet made it tempting to try and finish on her own what she had started with Puck, in fact her body was still screaming for it even after her icy bath in the river, but the memory of what had almost overtaken her scared her from trying. Even though not touching felt like it would cost her sanity.

The next day she decided the no touch ordinance extended to Puck as well, she knew he would be confused when she didn't show up as she had been doing, but she decided he would figure it out quickly enough. The only thing left was to work out what to do with herself. Ironically Santana found the agony of not touching or being touched worse than her daily beatings she had received upon arriving. They had only hurt physically, the torment she was feeling now followed her deep inside her mind and danced inside her dreams. The only thing more torturous than that was Brittany's attempts to find out what was bothering her with kind touches and soft words. Her condition was making her jumpy, irritable and angry, something even Matthew noticed in their brief interactions though he made no comment on it. Keeping it all inside helped nothing and soon she wondered if she just might one day die from the intensity of it.

Luckily for her she didn't die, though after a dozen days with frazzled nerves she did almost lose her temper thoroughly when Puck approached her at the river one day.

He had intended to give her a light fright by poking her in the side, her response was to punch him in the jaw, it had hurt far worse than he had imagined a blow from someone of her size could deliver.

"Ow! Calm down! I was jes comin' ta talk to you," he grumbled rubbing his jaw.

She glared at him, until his features registered and she realized this was someone to whom she owed an apology, "Oh, Puck. Sorry I thought you were… it doesn't matter, I shouldn't be hitting people for touching me," she sighed returning to staring at her features in the reflection of the water.

Puck straightened himself up and sat next to her, "Had ta ask around to find you. What're you doin' out here?"

She shrugged, "I have no idea. Waiting for the queen to leave council, I suppose."

He snorted, "All this free time and ya sit at th' river?"

They sat in an uncomfortable silence for a moment before Santana turned to look at him, "I'm sorry I left you like I did, it wasn't right of me to demand your time like that and just leave."

He laughed, "That's alright, I was confused when ya left in the middle and was a little mad when you didn't come the day after. But one'a the kitchen girls came looking for a potato sack 'n it all worked out, so yer forgiven."

She laughed at that and realized that it was the first time she had honestly and openly laughed that hard in a while, "I'm glad it worked out."

"Tain't surprising you ran off. Thought ya would from the start, started ta think different after a time, when ya kept comin' back for so long."

Her eyebrow went up, "How could you know that?"

He gave her a sly smile, "Don't mean ta brag, but I will. I know women and I know sex and I know th' many different reasons women have sex. You were using me ta outrun somethin'."

Speechless, she just stared at him before stuttering, "I, I wasn't- I mean I was but- there were-"

He held up a hand, "Don't worry yer pretty head about it, I was glad ta help."

There was a longer silence that followed before Santana ruined it by blurting, "I like women." She was mortified the moment she said it, but infinitely relieved to have said it out loud. Even though she had no idea what the repercussions of speaking of her perversion would bring.

"Sorry?" he said cocking his head to the side in confusion.

She let out a deep breath and steadied herself to say the words again, "I like women." When Puck just stared at her with his eyebrows knit together she elaborated, "I like women the same way you do."

Another beat and his eyebrows were still stitched together until understanding washed over his face and his features relaxed and his mouth opened in understanding, "Oh."

"It's sick and weird, I know," she said and she could feel tears pricking at her eyes, "I just really wanted to be normal, I have enough problems without something like this."

He watched her curl into herself and tried to think of something helpful to say, but all he could come up with was, "I don't think it's sick, besides ya ain't th' only woman I've heard of that does."

"Really?" she said too full of hope and vulnerability for her liking and took a deep breath. Upon letting it out she felt more of the weight on her chest leave and she had to admit she felt the best she ever had since the dance.

"Yeah."

The air was calm again and Santana thought on what he had said, about her not being the only woman to share her unusual tastes. And given that the information's source she had to wonder if it hadn't been made up just to make her feel better. Somehow it seemed unwise to willingly trust any and all information from a man named Puck.

Frowning slightly she turned to him, "Why are you called Puck? Was it just your mother's whim or is there something behind it… if you don't mind me asking," she added upon realizing she was asking unusually personal questions again.

If Puck minded he didn't show it, "My name's Noah. But it's only Noah, never knew my ma's name, 'n since I was a bastard they wouldn't give me my pa's. His surname was Puckerman, and since I couldn't have the whole thing I just took a part."

Santana nodded, "It suits you."

"I know," he said flashing his cheeky grin.

She chuckled slightly as she stood, brushing her pants clean of debris from sitting in the grass, "I should go, the queen will be out of court soon."

"I should, too, but I hate th' armory," he replied, flopping back on the ground.

Before leaving she stared at him, not knowing how exactly to express what she wanted to say, but eventually settled on the simplest and most direct phrase, "Thank you," she said sincerely.

He grinned up at the sky and waved her away which she understood to mean he got exactly what she was thanking him for.

A/N: Reviews welcome ^.^